All Apart Together

We are all in one room Morey is playing a violent video game because there are blood splatters on the screen every time I look at his I-pad. My husband is sitting behind me watching a movie on a laptop. Both he and Morey are wearing headphones because I have dog ears. I am trying to figure out if there is any way possible to write six poems tonight or six short stories, ,six limericks, six something. I pick up both I-pads. One to write, and one to look up spellings for I am not good at spelling. We remain in the same room for a couple of hours. without conversation unless you count the multitude of “thank you grandmas” when I brought Morey food in the form of eight pieces of ham, six strips of well-done bacon, and one “thank you grandpa” when grandpa fixed Morey a pepperoni pizza at 10:30 because he was still hungry. I am usually more social than this but today I spent six hours with a bossy take charge four-year-old, so frankly there is not one drop of energy left right now. I sit here gratefully, not talking to anyone, each of us in our own fantastical electronic world. Each one of us living a life the others know nothing about. I think my husband is a police detective solving crimes tonight, but I do not go back to peek at his laptop. Seeing Morey’s bloody screen is more than enough.